Theif's Treasure
by Demo-His-Themes
Summary: Her figure was perfect, she looked as if she had been sculpted from a statue of Aphrodite herself. He grinned, like a boy on Christmas morning, before holding one of his calloused hands out for her. “Room for two?” Female YukixKyo
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket. AND Yuki is now a female.

The detectives circled the table like ravenous crows. Their clenched fists and scowling faces exposed their impatience towards the man sitting quietly at the table. The detective with the balding head and grey speckled mustache suddenly slammed his fist on the table, apparently tired of waiting.

"Where the hell is the money you bastard?!"

The sudden display of temper made the man at the interrogation table jump slightly. He wasn't used to people lashing out at him, usually it was the other way around.

The other detective, Marcus, looked down at the man from where he stood. He put up one hand to calm his partner, though it did little good, the detective removed his clenched fist from the table and began pacing on the side. Marcus returned his gaze to the man at the table. He was normally the passive one, the reserved cop that noticed the little details that his partner overlooked. Marcus was the detective that helped put the puzzle together while his partner, Alfred, was the one that made things happen. He was the active, aggressive one while Marcus was the calm reasonable one. Although, today the man noticed that Marcus seemed less calm than usual, in fact he seemed rather angry.

But the man at the interrogation table was not indifferent to the change in Marcus. In fact, he seemed rather amused.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The man at the table brought up his cuffed hands. "Been in prison, remember?"

The convict expected Alfred to explode again; instead it was Marcus who grabbed him by the collar of his jumpsuit and yanked him up off the rickety seat.

"Do I look stupid, you fucking bastard?" His voice was low, quiet with rage. Promising the convict violence should he give even the slightest movement to invite it.

The man, on the other hand, seemed unintimidated by the display of anger, showed by the normally patient detective. Even though a small part of his brain told him, he should be.

The man gave Marcus a rather conniving smirk. "Do you really want me to answer that detective?"

It was the first time that the man saw Alfred have to reign in his partner. He suspected it was the first time for Alfred too. He wrestled Marcus out of the interrogation room and the man heard them talking quickly, in low voices.

They didn't take more than a couple of minutes before they were back in the room. Both facing the convict this time, a united front rather than the usual good cop, bad cop routine. Marcus had a manila folder clutched tightly in both hands, he reached in, he made sure that the convict saw none of the other papers inside.

He pulled out a small four by four photograph and placed it on the table. It looked like a picture a stalker would take. There was an obviously naked woman featured in the picture, but any lewd or vulgar details were blotted out due to the fact that the woman behind the shower curtain. She was a silhouette, a naked silhouette, but a silhouette nonetheless. The picture was obviously taken by a cheap camera and any particular aspect of the woman was blurred due to the size of the pixels.

The man looked up at the detectives, his face was deadpan.

Alfred glared down at the convict, refusing to be the first to say anything. The two stared each other down, neither giving an inch. It wasn't until Marcus grew increasingly irritated that the tense silence was broken.

"Who is she?" Despite the previous scuffle, Marcus's voice remained low and quiet, yet it still betrayed his increasing anger.

The convict looked at the picture, before raising an eyebrow at the detective.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" The man brought up his cuffed hands, hitting the table loudly. "She doesn't even have a face."

Alfred growled, "well no shit!" His wrinkling, tired, scowling face was shoved in front of the convicts. "This," he pointed at the picture, "was taken at _your _apartment in Venice."

The convict continued to stare at the detectives. "And?"

"Who the hell is she you son of a bitch?!" This time it was both of them who lost it. The convict flinched when the detectives both hit the table at the same time.

The man shrugged. "There were a lotof people that came to my apartment in Venice. You've got to be specific."

Alfred twitched violently, just barely able to contain himself from smashing the convict's head into the table. Marcus, one the other hand, sighed, irritated. It seemed that he had calmed down a lot since he tried to beat the man into a bloody pulp.

"This was December sixteenth of last year, taken between one o'clock and three o'clock." Marcus read off the one of the papers in the file, still keeping them hidden from the convict.

The man's hands folded lightly on the table, his head was bowed slightly, and his eyes were glazed over.

"I think, that she's Kagura Sohma, my cousin and ex-fiancé. She killed herself about a month before you arrested me."

* * *

They met in a one stop motel, the cheap kind that were used solely for sleeping through the night and getting back on the road the next day. They bumped into each other in the lobby, (that wasn't really a lobby but more like a counter in the middle of a parking garage) both running away for different reasons, from different people. But when they crashed into each other, it was like fate.

"I need a room NOW!" They had crushed each other shoulder to shoulder, both yelling at the tired, half-asleep clerk. He jerked up in his seat as the two ricocheted off each other.

"What the hell, asshole!"

"Goddamn it, bitch!"

They turned to each other, fully intending to unleash their fury upon the other. At least, until they got a good look at the other.

She eyed him wearily as he gazed disbelievingly at her. She looked like a runaway model. Her figure was perfect, she looked as if she had been sculpted from a statue of Aphrodite herself. Wearing nothing but a form fitting wife beater and low-rise jeans, she looked almost like a goddess trying to blend in with people. Her black hair was cropped short, just at her chin, showing off her elegant neck. And her face, with her high cheekbones and large grey eyes made her seem delicate and vulnerable, although through her body posture he could tell that she was anything but.

It took him only a moment before he noticed that she was appraising him as well.

He grinned, like a boy on Christmas morning, before holding one of his calloused hands out for her.

"Room for two?"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.

Their first apartment was small, constrictingly small. It was the cheapest place, in the dirtiest part of the city. The chain-link fence that surrounded the apartment building gave it an even edgier feeling.

But they had made it work, no matter the situation they always made their living arrangements work. He liked to think it was one of their many talents.

"Kyo! Quit daydreaming and get your ass over here!" She was still irresistible, even after nearly five months of travelling with her in close quarters. Her figure jerked in very unattractive motions as she tried to move their used single couch across the floor where she wanted it.

"Why the heck can't we leave it there?" Kyo whined, "it looks fine, right where it is."

"Shut up and _help me!"_ Kyo ran over to her when he heard _that_ tone. It was the one that guaranteed him a severe case of blue balls for the next month and the possible removal of his face if he didn't do what she wanted _right now_.

What surprised him was how light the piece of furniture actually was. Kyo frowned, he knew from experience how strong she was, and this display of weakness bothered him.

Unless…

He barely had time to turn around before she pounced on him. Her lips fastened tightly to his, giving him no room to breath after knocking the breath out of him. Their tongues roughly caressed each other for a few moments before she reared up. Her thin tank top couldn't disguise her obvious arousal and her thin sleeping shorts was the only barrier to the place he knew so well.

Kyo could only grin when she ground herself against him. One of his hands came up to cup her chin and she dragged herself up his torso, and, resting her forearms on either side of his head. One of his hands curled around the nape of her neck, rubbing the ends of her hair fondly, and brought her mouth back down to his. The kiss was sweet, filled with a burning passion neither could resist.

But, to be honest, neither of them really tried.

* * *

She first found out about him when he asked her if she wanted to move. It had taken him nearly five months but he had gotten them enough money to get out of the shitty apartment they started in. She had always been very perceptive, especially when it came to him. She noticed the little things about him that no one, not even he, had noticed about himself.

It happened when he asked her what kind of apartment she wanted.

"I wasn't aware we could afford a new apartment." Her voice was cold, calculating, precise. Her tone should have tipped him off in the first place.

Instead, Kyo just shrugged and shoved a catalog toward her. "I got a raise."

She picked up the catalog and flipped to the really expensive apartments. She browsed casually through the pages not even glancing at the glossed pictures. Kyo didn't know how she did it, but somehow she found the most expensive apartment, all the while staring at his face, taking in his reaction.

His heart stopped. _There was no way_. He just looked at her nervously. "You know we can't afford _that_."

She just raised an eyebrow. "Can't we?" She flipped the catalog shut. "I thought with all the money you've been taking from your boss we could."

Kyo's eyes went wide, and his mouth went dry.

Her gaze narrowed, and her eyes got colder. "Just how _stupid _do you think I am?" Her palms slammed onto their cheap, splitting table.

"_Shit!" _Kyo shot up off his seat, yanking her wrist up to meet his critical eyes. Two large splinters had jammed themselves into her palm, they had split the skin in such a way that blood was beginning to pool in her palm.

But before he could get more than a glimpse, she had snatched her hand away and used her good one to slap him. Hard.

"Ah! Dammit! That hurts." Kyo's hand came up to rub against the blooming red spot on his cheek.

"That's the point." She snapped and started to walk away, before she whirled around and faced him lividly. "What the hell were you _thinking?!_"

"I—" He stuttered.

"It's the sloppiest work I've ever seen!"

"Wha—"

"Even amateurs could do better than you!" She was still shouting at him. "Really, it's a _wonder _you didn't get caught!"

"Yu—"

"Do you have any _idea_ what would have happened if I hadn't covered for you?!"

"DAMMIT YUKI _SHUT UP!_" Kyo frustration and confusion boiled over and the young man snapped. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

Yuki sighed, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Kyo huffed impatiently and backed her up against the wall. Despite the intimidating position, Yuki didn't seem intimidated.

"Yuki," Kyo leaned his forehead right up against hers. "What the hell do you mean by _covering for me_."

For the first time since they had been married, Yuki saw Kyo control his temper. It was something that Kyo always said he could do, but had never actually done.

It surprised her. Mildly.

She looked him straight in the eye, and put one hand flat on his chest.

"Exactly what I said, sweetheart." The hand on his chest crawled up to cup his cheek. "I know your trade better than you."

Before he had a chance to react, she slapped him again, hard enough to make him stumble, and sauntered into their bedroom locking the door behind her.


End file.
